Not Alone
by Galaxia Alpha
Summary: Post Soul Society Arc. Rukia returns and Ichigo’s inner hollow attacks. How strong is their friendship? IchiRuki. Oneshot.


**Rating: **PG (violence, blood)

**Spoilers: **Soul Society Ark mostly

**Pairings: **Ichigo x Rukia

**Summary: **Rukia returns and Ichigo's inner hollow attacks. That's all I'm telling.

**Continuity: **Takes place after Ichigo first returns from Soul Society. It's a little AU from there because I break off from both the anime and manga storyline. I take poetic license a few places. Sorry if it bothers anyone.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bleach and I'm not making a cent off this story.

**---------**

**Not Alone**

He sits, a stoic figure with the usual deep frown creasing his forehead, one hand tapping a pencil absently against the smooth wood of the desk, the other propped under his chin, holding his head over the textbook he is _supposed_ to be studying. He isn't of course. His amber eyes aren't even looking down, totally ignorant of the illustrated amoebas meandering across the pages. Instead, he's staring at the peeling white paint on his walls and he is remembering.

The wind feels different here than in Soul Society. His window is open across the room and there is a slight breeze dancing across his skin, the unruly orange spikes of his hair waving shadows at the wall. In Soul Society, nothing is quite as tangible as it is here in the real world, and yet, it somehow seems more substantial. The wind is something you feel in your veins, the rain something you feel in your heart. He remembers the last words he said to Rukia as the portal between worlds opened, a gust of pressure rushing through his chest. "It has finally stopped raining."

"ICHIGO!"

He tries very hard to ignore the insistent, raw voice.

"ICHIGO! What are you trying to do! I'm getting a headache you idiot!"

Something thick and hard slams into his face and there is a moment of tense anxiety as he teeters backwards in his chair before gravity takes over and he falls. A moment later he is lying on his back, legs propped up on the seat of the tipped over chair, the biology book covering his face. He grabs the book, throwing it across the room. It takes care of the problem of the peeling paint on the wall. Now there is no paint. With the book gone, he has a clear view of Kon standing on his chest, the little stuffed lion crossing its arms over its furry, yellow chest.

"What's the big idea!" Ichigo yells, eyes wide.

"What's the big idea!?! What's the big idea _with you_? I can't sleep with all this depressed spirit you're spreading!"

"I'm not depressed!" Ichigo says stubbornly to the 10-inch doll standing on his chest.

"If anyone should be depressed it should be me anyway," Kon goes on, obviously ignoring Ichigo's retort. "Because of you I will never again have my Nee-san to hold on to. What will she do without me? How will she survive?" Kon tries to bring his hands up to hold his head, but, being that he is a rather simply-designed stuffed animal with no fingers, it looks more like he is punching himself in the face. "Neeeeeee-saaaaaaan," he cries melodramatically.

It looks absolutely pathetic and Ichigo has no patience for it. "Ah, shut up, will ya?" He palms Kon's face in his hand and thrusts him across the room along the same trajectory the book took a few minutes before. Squeak

Kon moans on the floor. Ichigo scowls some more.

He flips his legs up over his head then, doing a backwards summersault to land back on his feet. "I'm going out," he announces to no one in particular. Grabbing a long brown trenchcoat that is lying on the floor next to his door, he heads out of his room and down the stairs, pausing only long enough in the living room to stop his father's "surprise" attack with a firm punch to the stomach.

Outside, he is struck by how clear the night is. He walks with his head tilted upwards, hands in his pockets, steps long and lazy. The air is cool and it feels good in his lungs, something simple and identifiable that he can hold on to. He hadn't realized when he'd left Soul Society how hard this would be. It wasn't a surprise that he missed Rukia, or even that he felt a twinge of regret at knowing Renji wouldn't be just around the corner, ready for a battle. But there was something else, a thing he hadn't expected and a thing he hadn't been prepared for. In his pocket, the Substitute Shinnagami Badge is a comfortable, reassuring weight. He wishes it would vibrate with the spirit pressure of a Hollow and this wish scares him. He's never wished for enemies before. They've always just been there, ready and available whenever he's felt the least bit testy. He remembers Kenpachi, the thirst for a fight that dripped red from the gashes on that rock-hard face as they fought, the joy and the shear thrill Ichigo could detect in him at every clash of swords. _You're just like him_, a voice whispers in his head. _A bloodthirsty killer._

"No." He says it out-loud because it seems to carry more meaning that way. There is the sound of laughter in his head and he knows it is the darker side of himself that is speaking, that inner-Hollow he keeps sealed away. Even in his human form, he can hear it. In all his time in Soul Society, though he fought several desperate fights, he never killed anyone. He wishes he could say that is because he is both noble and compassionate, but he is too often motivated by fear. If he were to kill anything other than a Hollow, that darkness inside of him would win. The difference between a hero and a villain is only the width of a sword's edge.

But Kenpachi knows, Ichigo is sure of it. Kenpachi knows that Ichigo never truly feels alive without the weight of a sword in his hand. He is a warrior. Rukia gave him that.

And he is insatiably, terribly, torturously bored. Ichigo digs his hands deeper in his pockets and sighs. Three days since he's gotten back and he feels like he is going crazy. It's as if Hollow activity has suddenly stopped completely. He can feel them gathering, growing, preparing for something BIG. But there is time… he can feel that too. It is like a string held taut that is still too strong to snap.

_Where am I going?_ He's several blocks from his house, with no direction in mind, but in a few blocks he knows the houses will change and the streets will get dirtier and he will be in the places that most smart people don't dare to venture at night. _Ichigo, you idiot_, he says to himself, but he doesn't stop walking.

It's fine to fight with a soul sword and all, but sometimes it's nice to do things the old fashioned way.

A loud crash echoes out of an alleyway beside him and he wonders momentarily why strange noises always have to come from alleyways. He turns toward it, shoes scuffing against the littered concrete as he pivots, trenchcoat ballooning behind him like a cape. The moon affords him a thin ribbon of light that wraps itself around the image of two men slamming a woman against the wall of a building.

One of the men is probably four times the size of Ichigo, with thick arms and a patch across one eye. He has his hand over the woman's throat. Her eyes are wide circles, outlined with black mascara that is running down her cheeks in ebony tears. Her too-red lips quiver and form a silent scream. The other man, tall and thin and solid, stands watching with arms crossed over a wide chest. "That'll teach ya, whore."

It's his cue, and Ichigo takes this moment to make his presence known. "Excuse me, but you're going to have to stop that now."

The men whip around to face him, the big one still holding the woman suspended in the air. "Who the hell are you?"

The tall one chuckles, answering before Ichigo can, "Looks like some punk kid. Idiot. Kid's gonna make his mamma sad tonight. I'll take care of 'im, Ed. Say goodnight, kid."

Ichigo smirks. "Don't call me kid. I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, and I'm gonna beat you up now."

The tall man rushes him, and Ichigo flips out of the way. His reflexes are fast, but a little slower than he'd like, so that the man just barely catches Ichigo's foot as he evades the attack, making his plans for a graceful landing shatter in an unceremonious tumble onto the floor a few feet away.

He gets back on his feet quickly because the man is coming again, a glint of steel on his fist as he brings his hand toward Ichigo's face. This time Ichigo ducks and swipe-kicks the man's feet out from under him. The man lands with a thud, but is rolling away before Ichigo can pounce on him.

That's when the woman screams. The battle must have distracted the big man just enough that he loosened his grip on her throat just enough, just enough to let her scream, just enough for one scream that Ichigo feels like rush of hot air through his chest. Is he feeling her dim and quiet reiatsu, heightened by her fear? He doesn't know. He's never been good at these soul detection things, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that scream. Raw and red like blood, rough in texture and bitter in taste. Life and death is in the balance. Something in him changes and he smiles.

The battle is over barely a minute later. Both men lie on the ground, the girl has run away, and he is kneeling, leaning forward on the strength of one arm, sweat and blood dripping off his nose and pointed chin. They are both still alive. They have to both be still alive. He looks up, tense until he sees the chests of both the men move with the intake of breath. It happened so fast and he wonders just how close he came to killing them.

Images of Kenpachi flash through his mind. _He_ would have killed them.

_I would have killed them too_, the hollow within says.

_Good thing you're not in charge,_ Ichigo thinks, as he stands, his perspiration-weighted hair falling across his eyes. He feels better now, physically better, as if he's released some heavy pressure that was building inside. Is that it? Is he a slave to some instinct so basic and feral that it denies reasoning and logic?

He thinks of Rukia then. She enters his mind so suddenly that he is surprised and loses the rhythm of his breathing for just a moment. It's her as he last saw her, a smile painted across her delicate lips but a deep sadness in her violet eyes.

He wonders then if he should feel ashamed.

Hands in his pocket again, eyes up at the stars and the thin wisps of clouds that float across them, he turns in the direction of home. He's still wondering when he reaches his front door.

**---------**

"Ichi-nii, what's wrong? You seem… strange. What's with all the bruises you keep getting?"

Ichigo pauses, fork lifted halfway to his mouth, and looks across the dining room table at his little sister, Yuzu. He finishes putting the food in his mouth and glances away flippantly. "Nothing." He wonders why questions like these always have to come up at dinner when he's the hungriest and the least patient.

"You're such a liar. I bet you're getting beat up by a girl at school." That from his other sister, Karin.

"What? I'm not getting beat up!?!"

"Then what are the bruises from? I'll bet it's some girl."

"There's no girl!!!"

"What?!" roars a voice from the kitchen. Ichigo's father comes running out at full speed. "My son is getting beaten up by a girl? You wimp. I'll make you tough." He jumps over the table to throw a flying kick at his son, which Ichigo dodges, letting his dad crash into the floor.

"What's wrong with you?" he yells. "I AM NOT GETTING BEAT UP BY A GIRL!"

His dad hurls himself at him again. "You better not be, or I'll disown you as my son," he yells as they wrestle on the floor.

Yurzu shakes her head. Karin snickers.

And a third person watches from the window, smirking.

**---------**

Ichigo stumbles into his room, hair a little messier than usual, a reddish bruise forming around his eye from the one punch his father did manage to land. Stupid family. He steps up to his bed, leans forward, and lets his body belly flop onto the cotton sheets. Maybe he won't go out tonight. He feels sore and exhausted. Three weeks now. Three weeks since he's been back from Soul Society. Three weeks of no Hollows and three weeks of beating up thugs.

He turns his head to the side to stare at his headboard. "So quiet," he mumbles to himself, the words distorted by his cheek being pressed into the bed. It's never quiet in his room, not since Kon entered his life. He notes the sound of nothing with some curiosity. He moans contentedly. It's a nice sound.

Ten seconds later and it's driving him mad. He grumbles and slides off his bed, yelling "What the hell kinda trouble are you getting into now, Kon," as he spins around.

He stops. Sits back on the bed, practically stumbling.

She's there, smirking, leaning against his closet with the door open. Big violet eyes gleaming with stray moonlight from the window and the inevitable strand of raven hair crossing the bridge of her nose. The black robe of a Shinigami flows around her small form, her hand on the hilt of a sword that peeks out from her waistband.

"Rukia." He says it like he can't understand what the word means. It's the only thing he can think to say, so he says it, but he knows it sounds dumb and he knows the look on his face must be idiotic.

"You took forever eating dinner. I like your dad, but I got bored watching you two fight so I came in through the window. What's this I hear? The great Ichigo Kurasaki got beat up by a girl?"

Her jibe breaks his trance and he stands again, ready for a fight. "I didn't get beat up by a girl. And what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, that's a nice way to treat your new bodyguard."

He gives her a dumbfounded look, jaw dropping a little. He can tell she is thoroughly enjoying this. "Bodyguard?" he repeats.

"Yes, bodyguard."

"Why do I need a bodyguard?"

She crinkles her delicate eyebrows and puts a slim finger to her chin. "To protect you, of course. That's what bodyguards do, dummy."

He feels the fists he's unconsciously formed with his hands, and he remembers why talking to Rukia used to always feel so exhausting. He's a glutton for punishment. "I don't need protection. Especially by YOU!"

"What's that supposed to mean?! I can protect better than you can!" Her hands come to her hips and she leans forward for emphasis.

"Like hell! Did you forget that _I_ just saved _you_ in Soul Society? You're always getting yourself in trouble."

Ichigo tries to dodge, but it's too late, and the book Rukia hurls at him hits him square in the face. He tumbles backwards onto the bed, bouncing a little as his body flops down. He picks the book up off his now-swollen nose, looking at the cover. Biology. Same book Kon had thrown at him several weeks ago. Stupid amoebas.

"Hey, Ichigo."

She says it softly with a completely different tone, and his attention is caught by the sudden change. She sounds almost… apologetic? It keeps him from yelling in reply. "What?" He still says it with an angry edge though.

"Do you want to know something?"

He sits up, rubbing his nose. She looks so sincere and innocent. "What?"

"I think you just got beat up by a girl." And then comes the smirk, that devilish, infuriating smirk.

He stands up and moves toward her, too angry to speak. She suddenly looks worried, maybe wondering if he'll actually attack her. "Umm… Ichigo?"

He keeps moving toward her.

"Ichigo? …Uh… I just forgot. I need to go... " she says hurriedly, dodging past him and flying out the window.

Ichigo pulls the Substitute Shinigami Badge from his pocket and thumps it against his chest, hearing his body fall behind him as he transforms into Death, leaping up to the windowsill and diving out of it in one easy step.

It isn't long before he catches her, the chilled air whipping by him as he uses shunpo to take long leaps past the houses and the cars and the people sleeping in warm beds. He sees the black of her hair swirling behind her and the hem of her robes and follows it until his arms can reach around her waist and roll her to the ground. They tumble to a halt on somebody's lawn and he rolls off of her immediately, lying on his back a few feet away and panting at the stars.

She's silent for a moment, before tentatively calling his name, "Hey, Ichigo?"

The anger is draining from him. He doesn't know why he was so mad. It isn't her jesting with him, or the book she threw. It isn't even wounded pride. But maybe it's the way she's walked back into his life so easily, just like she left so easily, without any regard for what he thinks about it. What _does_ he think about it? "Yeah?" he finally responds.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." A little more silence, and then he says, "You got your powers as a Shinigami back." It isn't a question.

"Yeah. I guess I just needed some time in Soul Society to recover."

"That's good. I'm happy for you." And it's true.

"Thanks."

The wind shakes the trees and a few leaves fall on his chest. He lets them stay there, barely feeling them. It's always strange when he's in spirit form. Things that have no spirit-pressure barely seem to exist. It worries him. If he stayed in this form long enough, could he forget what real life is like? Would humans with a weak reiatsu feel less real? Would people like Keigo stop existing to him? "Oi, Rukia."

"Yeah?"

"Why did they send you?"

She sighs. It sounds like the breath of the wind. "We've learned some more about Captain Aizen's motives. He's trying to… merge the power of the Shinigami with the Hollows. Nii-san… told us about your Hollow."

Ichigo grunts, though it sounds more like a scoff. "Yeah, I forgot. He saw me like that when we fought."

"And then I spoke to Urahara, and he told me how you got your Shinigami powers back after the first time Nii-san attacked you. He told me that there was a price. Ichigo… I'm sorry." Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper.

"Stop that. I have you to thank. If I hadn't been so bent on saving you I couldn't have gained the ability to protect the people I care about. It doesn't matter. I keep the Hollow in check, anyway. Besides, that doesn't explain why you're here."

"We have reason to believe Aizen knows about your Hollow too. We think he's going to target you. I was assigned to make sure you are safe."

He laughs. It's not something he does much, but it happens now and it sounds like he is deflating, releasing a balloon of tension. "I guess that's okay. If you're gonna be following me around then I can make sure you don't get hurt."

"Hey, I am _you're _bodyguard."

"We'll see."

They fall into silence. It's clear tonight and the crescent shape of a quarter moon shines through the trees. He wants to look at her, but he feels like that would be awkward, so he continues staring at the shapes in the stars that his mother taught him when he was young. It's been a while since he's been in spirit-form and he can feel the pressure of the Hollow in his chest. He'd forgotten what that felt like and he's surprised that it feels stronger now than last time. When he's in human form it's just a dark impulse, but now it feels like something more coherent, more distinct. Can he really control it?

"There haven't been any Hollows for a long time," he says.

"I know."

"They're planning something."

He hears the grass and the leaves rustle as she nods. "I know." She's quiet for a moment, and then she says, "Hey, Ichigo. What do the lights in the sky mean?"

"They mean we're not alone." He says it so quickly he doesn't realize the words are leaving his mouth until after they're gone. It's what his mother always told him when he was a child.

"Ichigo?"

"Yeah."

"You're not alone."

**---------**

She sits on his bed while he studies for tomorrow's test, legs crossed and reading a manga he had lying around. He looks up from time to time to glance at her progress and is amused by how intently she reads, biting her lip and clutching the magazine a little too tightly at the really good parts.

He does another algebra problem, scribbling down the answer and bored with how repetitive his homework seems to be. He's never been number one in his class, but he's also never been sure whether that was because he just isn't as smart as some of the other kids or because he has a shorter attention span. What's the point of this anyway? He's Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute Shinigami. He fights Hollows as a side job. What does he need math for? Besides, if he fails his test he'll just beat up his teacher… that's it. It's a good plan. He lets his eyes slowly droop closed. His chin slides down the arm that was holding his head up to land on his notebook. So sleeeeeepy.

"ICHIGO!"

He starts awake, wide-eyed. The eyes, however, quickly narrow at Rukia. "What's the matter with you, woman? I was sleeping."

Her magazine is in her lap and she is looking up at him with a berating look. "Aren't you supposed to be studying?"

"No, no," he shakes his head. "You see, I was practicing a special technique. It's called osmosis. If I sleep on my textbook I'll learn it faster. Actually, the smartest kids at school are the ones that spend the most time sleeping on textbooks."

She looks at him incredulously. "Os..mosis? Really?"

"Yup." He smiles proudly at his explanation.

"So… then Ishida must sleep on a MOUNTAIN of textbooks."

"Yeah. That's cuz he has nothing better to do."

She looks thoughtful. "Okay then. I guess you can sleep." She turns back to her manga.

He can't help shaking his head at her. For all that Rukia knows about Soul Society and killing Hollows, she is completely clueless in the real world. He wonders how long it will take her to really catch on and figure out how things actually work here. He hopes it takes a while. At times like these, her ignorance is convenient.

He puts his head back down to sleep, but notices again the silence that he's not used to. He sits up. "Rukia?"

"Wait… I'm at the really good part. This is where the hero bashes the bad guy's head in!" She's leaning over her manga, teeth clenched like she's about to explode.

"But—" Ichigo starts.

Rukia whips her head up suddenly and her violet eyes shine like they contain laser beams. "I SAID TO WAIT!" Her voice is even deeper than usual.

"O..okay. Sure, Rukia," Ichigo says, putting his hands up defensively.

She looks down again, turns the page, bounces a little on the bed, turns the page, gasps, turns the page, and puts the manga down abruptly looking up. Folding her hands in her lap, she smiles sweetly, and with a pleasant voice says, "Okay, I'm done. What did you want?"

"Uhh… I… uh, just wanted to uh, know where Kon was."

"Oh, I put him in Yuzu's room. He kept trying to… grab me."

"He's going to hate you for that, you know."

She shrugged, unconcerned. "Oh well."

"Anyway, I'm going to bed, so scram."

"What? How dare you order me around like that!"

"Scram or no more manga."

She looks terrified, and he takes that moment to walk over to the bed, scoop her up in his arms, and drop her by the window.

"Ooof!" she says. Followed by, "You idiot! What are you doing?"

He looks down at her, amber eyes tired, before turning away and saying lazily over his shoulder, "Don't you have to patrol the town or something?"

"There's a new Shinigami assigned to do that now. I'm assigned to YOU."

"So?" He falls forward on the bed, ready to go to sleep without bothering to change into pajamas.

"So, that means I stay here."

"But you don't have a gigai."

"What kind of idiot are you? I don't need a gigai to follow you around. I'll sleep in your closet, just like I always did."

"Shouldn't you go visit Inoue or Chad now that you're back?" He mumbles this into his pillow, and he's not even sure she can understand him. Something heavy and hard thumps down on the bed next to him. He opens his eyes enough to see that it's his math textbook. Rukia is standing beside his bed, hands on her hips. "Shouldn't you have that with you so you can osmosize it?"

"Osmosize? You can't make it a verb."

"Why not?" she says angrily. "I'll make it a verb if I want to make it a verb."

"Idiot."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

He smiles, and the expression feels peaceful on his lips. "You gonna go visit Inoue and Chad?" he asks, closing his eyes.

"I already did. Ishida too."

"What? I was last?" He doesn't know why, but that makes him angry. He opens his eyes again but Rukia isn't there anymore. He rolls over so he can see her beginning to climb into his closet. He'd kept it empty for some reason, never putting back the clothes he used to store in there. Had he been saving that space for her in case she ever came back?

She doesn't look at him while she answers, "Yeah… It seemed to make the most sense since I'm staying with you."

"Oh. Hey, are you taking that manga to bed with you?"

She looks at him, "Of course. I want to osmosize it. The hero is really attractive." Then she disappears in the closet with her manga clutched to her chest. The door slams shut.

Ichigo sighs and sinks back into the bed to drift off to sleep. "Rukia, you idiot."

**---------**

The Hollows return a few weeks after Rukia does. From the start, they are different than any Ichigo and Rukia have ever seen. It's the way their bodies are less monstrous and more human-like, the way they fight with increasing intelligence, their ability to adapt in battle. Each time they fight their opponent is just a little better. Each time they fight, winning becomes just a little harder.

They both know what this is, instinctively perhaps. Aizen is developing his weapons and these are their trial runs, the testing for his prototypes. Once they are perfected, the war will begin.

Fighting alongside Rukia is a love-hate experience for Ichigo. The part he loves is that moment when his Shinigami Badge vibrates and Rukia's head perks up with her spirit sense of a Hollow. She looks at him and there is the momentary pass of understanding between their eyes before he slaps the Shinigami Badge against his chest and leaves his body behind him, letting Kon take over if the circumstances are right.

Depending on how far they have to go, she'll sometimes jump on his back as they run. She used to refuse, but he is faster than her, even using shunpo, and the first time he arrived at a battle far enough ahead of her that it was over before she came was the last time she decided to let that happen. Now she accepts that speed is one of his strengths and takes advantage of it. They both know she has others.

That trip to the battleground is Ichigo's favorite part. His resolve is always the strongest then, with the feeling of a Hollow tingling his senses just ahead, the weight of Rukia on his back, her voice in his ear berating him for this or that, and his sword feeling alive with the need to fight.

She always yells that they've arrived even though he already knows, as if he can't feel the reiatsu of the Hollow, dark and black and pressing into his chest. He stops and she swings off of him, gliding into a battle stance. She never wavers and her spirit feels indomitable beside him. This is the part he loves.

The part he hates comes next. He always tries to get her to stay back and let him handle things. She always refuses. She is strong and he is always proud of her as he watches her whip around the enemy, dancing about with a sword that looks like a swirl of ribbon. It is beautiful and he realizes that she is an artist when she fights. But it scares him. Every moment of her attacks terrifies him and he can think only of protecting her. He's spent so long thinking of himself as her savior that it's hard to change that, even when her powers have returned. Even when he can't help admitting that she is a warrior.

And what is he? Every time they fight, he wonders that again. Every time the hollow inside of him seems to get a little stronger, a little angrier. Then there are the times when Rukia gets hurt, and he changes into something darker, fighting ruthlessly like some animal, totally oblivious to the houses he is knocking down or the roads he is tearing up. All that exists is his sword and his enemy and the mask that creeps across his face.

It shatters when the battle is over and the enemy is dead. It shatters and the darkness recedes back into his chest, into a little box there, pounding against the walls as it always does, begging to be free again. Turning around to face her, the pieces of his Hollow's mask in his hands, always seems impossible, but somehow he always does it. That first look she gives him is one of anger and he wonders what expressions he misses on her face while his back is still turned. He asks her if she is okay and she yells at him for trying to protect her before looking pointedly at the shattered mask in his hands and asking him the same. As always, he tells her he's fine, but she never stops there. She nags him about how dangerous he can be if he doesn't get things under control and he tells her to shut up. They argue until she accuses him of being scared.

It's true. He's terrified. But he never admits it, and they barely speak to each other the rest of the day. This is the part he hates the most.

**---------**

"We need to talk."

Ichigo glares at her, knowing what's coming. He stretches up toward the sky, white puffy clouds drifting lazily across the azure backdrop. His hands drop back to his sides. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Too bad. We're talking anyway."

"Then why did you ask me?" He looks down at the top of her head, sun reflecting off the black-raven color of her hair. They are both in Shinigami form and he feels surrounded by black—the color of their robes and the color of their moods.

"I didn't ask you. I told you from the start, idiot." She sticks out her foot and he trips over it, stumbling a little before falling into step beside her again, grumbling some choice words at her. They are almost back to his house where Kon is no-doubt wrecking havoc with his body. The call for the Hollow had come only minutes after they'd made it home from school.

"Ichigo… the Hollow… it's getting worse, isn't it?"

Of course it's getting worse, but what is he really supposed to say to her? That every time they fight he comes just a little closer to losing it completely? She has to know that. She has to feel that in him. Why is she even asking? "I can handle it," he says.

"Stop trying to be tough. That's stupid."

"Shut up. I'm not trying to be tough."

"You're always trying to be tough. This is important, Ichigo. People could get hurt. In Soul Society, we do not let our own pride put others in danger. A real warrior doesn't do that." She looks up at him, but he doesn't meet her eyes, instead staring in the direction of his house a few blocks away.

"Shut up. You're full of it, Rukia. How many of your Shinigami did I fight that refused the help of a comrade because fights are supposed to be one-on-one? You may want to believe what you just said is true, but it's not." He realizes she's slowed down, but he keeps walking, letting her lag behind and not really caring.

"Ichigo! Stop this!"

Something in her voice hits him that time. It isn't her usual annoyance or anger at him but something different. There's a roughness to her tone, maybe a strain. He stops walking and turns to face her. She won't look at him.

"Oi. Rukia."

"What do you want you senseless jerk."

"Why were you really sent here?"

She doesn't say anything. Instead she bites her lip.

"Stop being a baby and just tell me."

"It doesn't matter." She raises her head defiantly and continues walking, brushing past him with a breath of spirit pressure, her reiatsu distant and cold.

He doesn't move. "Rukia, do you remember when we first met? And I told you I would protect my family at all costs? I was prepared to die that night. I would have died before allowing the people I care about to get hurt. That was my resolve and it still is. If that fails, if I can't defeat this thing inside of me on the strength of that resolve, then I can never protect those I care about ever again."

"But Urahara... He might be able to—"

"Urahara can't do anything," Ichigo interrupts. "He made me this way. He threw me down in a pit and left me to be consumed. I have to fight this myself, Rukia. Don't you understand?"

She still isn't facing him, and all he can see is her shoulders drop slightly as she exhales a breath. She looks tiny inside of her large robes. When she speaks next, her tone is flat, emotionless. "I was sent here because it was feared that you might become completely Hollow. It was decided that we couldn't allow that to happen, especially if Aizen were to use you. I was chosen to come because it was thought I might be the last one able to reach you if the Hollow began to take over. And if the Hollow won… as an honor to you for saving Soul Society, it seemed appropriate to send a friend to kill you."

She continues walking then, but he doesn't follow right away and she never looks back to see his reaction, doesn't even give him the opportunity to accept what she says with grace or to accept it with an outburst. Instead, she just keeps walking, and he wonders what emotions it is she is trying so hard to hide.

**---------**

When he gets back to his room, she isn't there. He allows himself to wonder for only a moment where she is before deciding that he doesn't care—that he shouldn't care. She should have told him from the start why she came back to the human world. He would have understood, but the fact that she doesn't trust him makes him feel uneasy. It prods at the dark place in his chest and he feels the faint whispers of his inner hollow.

It makes him angrier because this dark feeling is always here now, pulling at him and gnawing at his spirit. If it would just come at him directly, he could fight it and it would be over. But this? It's wearing him down and it makes him anxious. He's not sure if he can win this way. The hollow takes advantage of his weaknesses, pushes the hardest when he's distracted and already fighting some outside enemy, taking over his body until he can get his focus back and shatter the mask that forms across his face. He needs to lure the hollow out when that's not the case. He needs to fight this battle on his terms and finally end it.

Would she really kill him if she had to?

_Kill her first._ Ichigo misses a breath, eyes wide. He'd heard the words distinctly, like a gravely whisper in his mind.

_Weakling. I'll kill her then._

He knows he hasn't imagined it. The words are clear and he has a hard time filling his lungs with air because there is a heavy weight pressing into his chest, trying to press through it until there is nothing left but a hole and the sound of the wind blowing through the space where a heart used to be. _Like a Hollow._

"Shut up!" He yells the words to himself as he pulls the Shinigami badge out of his pocket and steps out of his body, letting his physical form thump to the floor and not caring if his sisters hear and come running to find him unconscious and non-responsive in his room. _Why don't I care? Shouldn't I care?_ It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because he has to end this, end it now before someone gets hurt. He doesn't push the Hollow back inside of him, but instead lets it come, faces it head on.

Then he is leaping out of the window and running. He doesn't know where he is going really, letting instinct carry him. It doesn't matter. The battle is inside of him and he is trying to surround the darkness in his chest with his reiatsu, trying to focus on crushing it. But it doesn't work. It doesn't work because that darkness is a part of him and the more he presses against it, the more it laces itself into his spirit, spreading through him until he feels surrounded by it.

His legs stop moving and he falls to his knees, panting, hands digging into the dirt, sweat drops falling down and making mud. Where is he? Amber eyes look up through strands of bleach-orange hair. The river. There is just enough sunlight left to cast deep shadows across it, like demons dancing on the water and laughing at him with the rushing sound of the river against the rocks. It's the place that he's always gone to when he's needed the space and time to remember his mother. Why now? Why has he come here now?

He feels something, barely able to notice it because it feels so… familiar? Leaning back on his heels, he sees a dark shape standing on the opposite bank. A dark shape with a huge round hole in its chest. Hollow. And it feels… like himself? It feels like the darkness overcoming him and he rejects the feeling, throwing his reiatsu against the Hollow standing there. Is it laughing at him? It doesn't even stumble backwards, but instead says in a high-pitch squeal, "Oooh, weirdness, weirdness. I can't tell if that was an attack or not. So straaaange. There was so little attacking intent that I thought it might have been a handshake. Why attack anyway? You called me here, weird little Hollow."

It's so difficult to speak what he wants to, but he pushes out the words. "What did you call me?"

"Oooh. You can't fool me. I'm so good at hide-and-seek. You dress like a Shinigami but you smell like a Hollow."

His eyes are wide and he feels like he is sinking but he forces himself to stand, slowly and deliberately, hand coming to his sword. He pushes the cloth that binds it away with his reiatsu, seeing it swirl about in the peripheral of his vision as he swings his sword forward to point at the Hollow. His feet are planted firmly in the dirt, but his arms are shaking.

"I AM NOT A HOLL—"

"Ichigo!"

_Kill her! _

He breathes in sharply, knowing her voice. He would always know her voice. Rukia. She's behind him and he doesn't know how he failed to miss her reiatsu before because now that he notices it, it fills his senses. She feels so clean compared to himself. "Rukia, stay away from me."

"Ichigo? Something is wrong. I can feel it."

Her reiatsu comes closer to him. "Damn it, Rukia, DON'T COME!"

"Ichigo?"

"I said to stay back! I mean it this time! Just leave me alone!"

She breathes in deeply behind him. "I am not going anywhere. We'll fight this together."

Would she really kill him?

He can feel the mask spreading across his face, sealing him in, overtaking his senses so that the world looks different. Darker maybe. But brighter too. Brighter because he suddenly feels so powerful. It's the same every time he changes into a hollow. There's a feeling of boundless energy that tears through him like a bolt of lightning and makes him feel as if he would explode if he didn't expend it somehow. He knows then why he can fight other hollows even when he is also a hollow. It's because he wants to be better than them, stronger than them. It's because of his pride.

"Ichigo, stop this!"

The hollow across the river is laughing again. "How dare you," Ichigo growls.

"Haha! I knew it! You're a hollow! You're a hollow! You're just like me!"

A serpentine smile spreads across Ichigo's lips and then bursts apart with his own hysterical laughter. "Wrong! I'm better than you!" He leaps forward, flying through the air and laughing again, sword swinging. The blade never touches the Hollow but in moments the creature is cut to shreds, its mask shattered into so many pieces it looks like a pile of sand. His reiatsu is his weapon now, whipping out past his sword. He flips to the ground, still laughing.

"Ichigo, you have to fight it! You have to stop it!"

_Her next._ He spins around to face the bank he once stood on, facing her for the first time. For a moment he simply stands, regarding her, the river rushing along between them, separating them like a chasm. Darkness and light. She's holding her Soul-Cutter but she smells of fear. Her stance is too weak, her resolve too unsure. _Pathetic._ He laughs, springing across the water to bridge the gap between them, landing behind her and spinning around. She turns to face him, sword pointed at his chest.

He had wondered if she would really kill him. He had also wondered if he'd want her to. And as he stares into her squinted eyes, tears squeezing out the sides, as he feels the fear in her, as he notices her lips are shaking and her hands look weak, he knows the answer to both questions. Underneath the weight of the hollow, there is a sliver of himself left that hasn't been tainted. It's the part of him that remembers how she had helped him save his family, how she had made him a Shinigami, how for a summer his only purpose had been to save her life. He looks into the wet violet of her eyes and he remembers what she means to him. In that moment, he forms his resolve.

He doesn't push against the dark reiatsu that engulfs him, doesn't try to force it away or overcome it. He simply cuts through it with the force of his intent, splitting it just enough to crack the mask on his face and throw his body forward into her sword.

The blade stabs through his chest all the way to the hilt. He feels the hollow's mask shattering and the darkness fading. His body slumps and she stumbles backwards a little, but she holds him up. The weight isn't real anyway. It's only an illusion. He is spirit and he feels light as the wind. His head drops to her shoulder and he turns his lips to her ear. "Thank you," he whispers. And then, he fades away.

**---------**

He wakes up in the hazy confusion of his mind, standing on the window of a building. He looks down at the reflective glass that acts like a mirror, seeing the orange of his spiky hair, the black of his robes, the steel of his sword in his hand.

"Ichigo?"

He spins around, eyes widening as he recognizes the voice. _She_ is there, head tilted and raven-black hair falling to the side. The air is misty, making her look fuzzy, unreal.

"Rukia?" The word doesn't seem to fit in this place.

"I think I won't hit you in the head so often." She looks meaningfully around at the sideways building they stand on that makes up his inner consciousness. "Ichigo, you really are a mess." He follows her gaze down the length of the building. If things made sense, they would be falling right now.

"How are you here?"

She rests her hand on the hilt of her sword at her waist, the other hanging loosely at her side. Her eyes turn towards him, a shock of color against the white of her skin and black of her robes. "Fool. Remember what happened the _last _time I stabbed you with my sword?"

A flash of memory: Karin screaming and the smell of rotting flesh and those violet eyes focusing him as his hands grasp hers on the hilt of her sword and push the blade into his chest—He frowns, shaking his head suddenly. "It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?" She looks at him as if she expects him to say something stupid.

"The whole stabbing me and transferring your spirit thing. I never really thought about it then, but it doesn't really make sense. Shinigami can kill other Shinigami, right? But how can you kill each other if every time you stab each other in the heart you just transfer your spirit power?"

Her expression is one he's never seen before; there's something in her eyes that makes him think of a scarred wound. Her chin drops, and long bangs shadow her face. "I do not wish to talk about it."

He can feel the dark pressure of his Hollow close by, can feel the intensity of its desire, the taunt spirit ribbons. It is waiting. Waiting like it has all the time in the world. His own spirit power roars angrily inside of him, the anxiety tightening his muscles and making him jumpy. Any other time he wouldn't push Rukia. Any other time he would allow her her privacy. This isn't any other time. "What the hell, Rukia? You're in my HEAD. I think we're a little past secrets here. I'm supposed to be DEAD, Rukia. The hollow is supposed to be GONE." He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, towards the direction of the hollow's spirit pressure.

The pressure grows, moving towards them, swelling like a growth, and he wonders suddenly what his body is doing in the real world. Is the hollow controlling him? Is it hurting people? His family? "You idiot, Rukia, say something!"

She looks up at him, catlike ferocity in the set of her jaw and springs at him, body slamming into his chest and tackling him to the ground. Her robes slap loudly against him and her hands press into his shoulders. He can feel her tiny feet on his stomach as she crouches over his sprawled-out form. "Do not ever speak that way again. You are not dead because I didn't choose to kill you. Okay?"

"Okay, okay. Get offa me, will you?" He shoves her sideways, but not with any real force. She listens though, standing with her back to him.

He rolls to his feet, grumbling, and is surprised when she speaks again. "When I was younger, my Vice Captain was taken over by a Hollow. He kept his form, but the Hollow had control of his mind. He tried to kill me, but I stabbed him first, through the heart. As he was dying, he thanked me, and as he thanked me, I promised myself something: never again. Next time, I would find a different way to kill the Hollow. I spent hours in the library going through old texts so I could learn how to do a spirit transfer. It was forbidden, so I did it in secret. The first time I ever tried it was with you, that time when your family was being attacked."

She stops speaking, and he stares at her back, examining the folds in her robes, the deep shadows around her hair, not really sure what to say. Finally he tries: "Oi, Rukia?"

"What do you want, fool?"

"Thank you."

Her shoulders seem to relax, dropping slightly, and she finally turns around, body facing three-quarters to him but eyes meeting his. A tiny smile settles onto her lips. "You're welcome, idiot."

Then he feels it, the spirit ribbons of his hollow flying towards them all at once, the supernova pressure of a black hole exploding behind them. He doesn't know he's moving until he's already there, body between Rukia and the onslaught, sword raised and humming with power. When the two swords clash there is no sound of metal-on-metal but the shockwave of an explosion, blue and red light colliding and lashing backwards, shattering the windows of the building beneath them.

When it's over, Ichigo stands clothed in the ragged fitted robes of his bankai, his sword sleek and obsidian-black in his hands. A few feet away, his hollow stands, a mirror image or himself, black exchanged for solid white. Between them are smoking skid-marks, the backlash of their first sword-clash having blown them apart.

"Sorry, was I interrupting a special moment?" The hollow's voice is high-pitched and distorted. "Oopsies."

"Shut up and go away already!" He knows it isn't his best fighting line, but Ichigo doesn't really care anymore. He springs forward, changing trajectory at the speed-of-light pace his bankai allows, leaping over the hollow's head and spinning to attack from behind.

But he never makes it. He hears the swish of the sword before he feels the pain in his arm, the hollow's blade slamming into hit shoulder with the force of his own movement. He drops to his knees and curses, managing to bring his sword up to block another blow, thankful that it's not his fighting arm that's hurt. He rolls away and onto his feet, squaring his stance and bending his knees for another attack. The hollow stands up straight, sword outstretched and dripping with blood. He smirks, tilts his head, and regards Ichigo with a curious look. "You really never learn, do you? I'm better than you, Ichigo. So much better than you. I taught you everything you know about Zangetsu. He's loyal to ME."

Ichigo sees a flash of movement behind the hollow and then the hollow is turning to meet Rukia's attack, so quickly that he knows he can only really see it because he is in bankai mode. The hollow sidesteps her attempt to cut open his chest and swings his sword across her side. She drops to the ground, red seeping through the rip in her robes. Ichigo is there instantly, screaming her name like a battle cry as he thrusts his sword toward the hollow's heart, driving all of his spirit power into the blow, but the hollow spins out of the way, swinging his sword out by the chain at its hilt as he does, the blade swiping across Ichigo's stomach.

Ichigo almost falls, but he won't let himself, head dropping for only a moment before he lifts it again, one hand clutching his abdomen where blood is seeping through his fingers, back hunched slightly. "Go AWAY!" He lifts his sword, gathering his spirit power around him, feeling it lift his hair and his robes, hearing it roar as he yells the name of his attack. And then, he brings the sword down in a sharp movement, propelling all that power forward. He waits for the explosion to fade, for the dust to settle, for the glass of the windows to stop shattering.

But when it does, the hollow is standing there, a hundred feet away, laughing, having neatly dodged the blast.

Ichigo stumbles backwards a little, exhausted, vision doubling. He feels the blood draining from his body through his wounds. His robes are wet and sticking to him and Zangetsu feels too heavy in his hand. The air rushes in and out of his lungs desperately. He knows he is losing. He knows he has to keep fighting. He knows he will until he's dead. He has to keep moving. He has to forget how much blood there is and how only some of it is his, how Rukia is dying on the ground by his feet and it's his fault, how he is powerless against this monster that he created.

He leans forward to attack again, but something tugs at his sleeve. He looks down at the hand, thin pale fingers gripping fabric, and focuses on the face behind them, on the determined expression in Rukia's eyes. "It will never work this way," she says.

"I have to keep fighting."

"You'll never beat him alone. We have to work together."

"This is my fight, Rukia. You shouldn't even be here." He gives her a hard glare. She shouldn't be here kneeling on the ground in a puddle of her own blood.

"That's stupid, Ichigo. I don't care about your pride right now. You can beat most of the Captains in Soul Society. I think that should be enough for your ego."

He raises an eyebrow. "Most?"

She smirks, her eyes challenging him. "I still think you got lucky with my brother."

"What? That pansy? I could beat him with my eyes closed."

"Uh-huh." She pulls himself up, using his arm for support. He realizes that she's ripped off the hem of her robe and tied it around her torso to hold the wound in her side closed.

"Rukia…" he says, not sure she should be trying to stand.

"I'm going to provide a distraction for you, Ichigo."

He looks down at the top of her head, her hair shiny with sweat. "Idiot, he'll kill you."

"Then don't let him." She runs forward then, a blast of ice whirling in front of her that he recognizes as the second release of her sword. He knows she's too slow, much much too slow and that the hollow will slide out of the way before she gets there, so fast that she won't even see it. He'll slide to the side and he'll hold out his sword and she'll still be charging forward—

He thrusts himself into that space, into that place where he knows the hollow will go, the only place it makes sense to go. And he realizes, as he moves, that while the hollow knows him, he knows the hollow too. They share a body and a mind and though the only thing they don't share is a heart, he's always known exactly what the hollow will do.

His blade sinks into the hollow's chest, the force of his blow throwing them both backwards so that Ichigo lands with one knee on the hollow's stomach, the other on his sword arm, Zangetsu sticking out of the place where the hollow's heart should be. Beside them Rukia tumbles to the ground, her attack having met no resistance.

The hollow smirks and coughs up blood. "I won't go away, you know."

"I know," Ichigo answers.

"We're evenly matched, but you doubted before and I would have won. There's only one reason I didn't." He looks at Rukia, now a motionless heap on the ground and smiles wider. "I'll wait."

And then the hollow is gone, dissolving into a red haze that fades soon after. Panting, Ichigo uses his sword to stand, a line of fire across his abdomen keeping his back bent. Sweat drips from his hair. He looks up through the orange strands of it, seeing the lump of Rukia move. "Ichigo?" she questions, her head lifting as she slowly climbs to her knees. "Is it gone?"

"Yeah," he pants, then pauses a moment for air. "Now get the hell outta my head." He doesn't really know what he's doing; it's instinct that he follows more than anything, but he focuses on her spirit pressure and pushes it _away_ as hard and fast as he can, determined not to steal her powers a second time.

She disappears, an indignant look on her face, and then everything else fades too.

**---------**

He wakes up lying on the pavement of a deserted street, staring up at a night sky full of stars. Rukia is next to him, her spirit pressure weak but firmly in her own body. He calls her name softly, barely managing to speak as his brain suddenly registers the pain of his injuries.

"Idiot," she mutters. She flings a fist toward him, letting it fall against his arm. She leaves her hand there, too lazy to pull it back.

It lacks the usual enthusiasm of her punches. "You okay?" he manages. He looks around as much as he can without moving his head too much and knows by the style of the rooftops that they are somewhere close to Chad's house.

"Are you?" Her voice is rough but steady. Strong, as always.

"Feel like I got run over by a tractor trailer."

She laughs a little, then stops. "What's a tractor trailer?"

He rolls his eyes, wondering if he should even bother explaining it to her. Now doesn't quite seem like the time. "Idiot." A pause, then: "Hey, Rukia. I'm sorry."

She slams her fist down into his arm again, small hand colliding with his bicep. This time it actually hurts a little. "Don't be stupid."

"Ow," he mutters. "Can't you see I'm bleeding to death, here?"

"Well, so am I!"

He swallows. Her words feel like another punch, though he knows she doesn't mean them that way. "Yeah, about that…" He tries to reach his arm up to scratch his head, but it takes entirely too much effort and he lets it fall back to the ground. "We're going to need Inoue to heal us."

"She'll feel us. If not her, then Ishida will. They'll be here soon."

He's content with that. He doesn't really feel like trying to move anyway. He considers turning his head to look at her but knows he'll only see more blood than he wants to. Images from the recent fight flash through his mind. She almost died. Next time, she might. "I need to get stronger." He doesn't realize he is saying it out loud until the words have already escaped his lips. A cool breeze blows over them, rustling the leaves in the trees and stinging his cheeks.

He thinks he hears her sigh, but he can't be sure it isn't just the wind.

"Ichigo," she finally says after a long pause.

"Yeah?"

"Why are there stars in the sky?"

He smiles then, the kind of smile he remembers wearing for his mother when he was young, and it's worth it to look at her, those violet eyes already turned towards his. Her hand is still resting on his arm and he thinks about reaching up to hold it gently but he doesn't, content to just feel her there. "To remind us that we're not alone," he answers, and she smiles back at him, before turning to look again at the countless points of light in the sky.

_**Fin**_


End file.
